I'm really a nice kid. I never want to cause any trouble, well, serious trouble at least, and generally speaking, I just want to experience the good in life. That's why people who know me best, and even myself, give a little chuckle as to when thinking about the time I was beaten up. We only laugh about it because it is weird to think that it happened to me. I've had numerous people ask me, "Why, you? Who would do that to you?" Well, those really are good questions. After all, I'm just a 5'6", 130-pound stump, with absolutely no hair on my chest. I don't know how to curse, I've never gotten an A in gym class, and I'm never out to prove anything, just out to have a good time. So, why would anyone beat me up? Well, I can always make assumptions as to why it all happened but truthfully speaking, I'll never understand why it had to happen to me, such a nice, easy going kid, on that destined night of February 15, 2002. Although, I don't understand why, due to this experience I do understand that in life unfortunate accidents will arise and it's my responsibility to laugh about it and move on.
             The "incident" occurred on what was supposed to have been any normal Friday night for a high school senior. I was headed off with the usual group of friends, to watch our mighty and ferocious Timpanogos Timberwolves mutilate the Pleasant Grove Vikings in basketball. Just as always, I sat on the front row, yelling and screaming right along with everyone else. It wasn't the most exciting game ever witnessed in the THS gymnasium. The Timberwolves held a steady lead over the Vikings the whole game, which lead to their victory.
             As soon as the clocked buzzed that the fourth quarter was over, all T-Wolves rushed from the bleachers to the center of the floor to join the basketball players in celebration. Despite the unfriendly smell of perspiration, al...